


FROST

by thoughtsdemise



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Death, Gore, Mech/Mech, Violence, Warped Reality (AU), freezing bodies, tissue requirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 09:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6950686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtsdemise/pseuds/thoughtsdemise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grasp at the retreating warmth slipping like sand through fingers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FROST

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Decepticonsensual](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decepticonsensual/gifts).



> A/N: Ask for Drift and Ratchet trying to stay warm in the cold, let me listen to “It’s Only a Fairy Tale” and “Dear You”, and reread Empire of Stone…this is the result.

_ They’re dancing in the shadows like whispers of love. Just dreaming of a place where they’re free as doves. They’ve never been allowed to love in this cursed cage. It’s only a fairy tale they believe.  _ –MAI-hime, “It’s Only a Fairytale”

Drift shutters his optics and forces the length of strut back into his thigh.  He pants to relieve the stress on his systems from the pain.  The tube of metal between his denta is readjusted, and he shoves the rest of the wires inside after the strut.  He bends the plating closed around the wound.  He impacts with a cold rock wall, the metal tube falling from his lips and clattering away.  Darkness sneaks into the edges of his visual input.  His exvents puff and freeze in the stealing cold.

Pain and cold dance over sensitive sensors like a cruel master.  Vents stutter and wheeze.  Drift hovers on the verge of a complete systems crash.  It is only the thought of protecting his friend that has him turning his helm to look at Ratchet.  Plates shift and twitch at the pattern of frost that covers the medic’s windshield.  The intricate pattern is delicate, beautiful like small threads of ivory.   Drift optics spiral wide.  A deep fear coils in his spark.

“Ratch,” his rasp barely making it to his audios.

He swings his right arm across his frame to tumble toward the quiet medic.  Tiny fissures chase each other over the frozen energon.  Drift pulls himself through the large pool.  His progress is slow with internal lines that had begun to freeze rupturing with his movements.  Digits touch plating, and Drift lifts his helm to look at the cold gunmetal where white should be.  Drift’s helm knocks into Ratchet’s leg as his dull reflection stares back at him.

“Ratch.”

The spark whirls with a painful fear that catapults the nearly dead frame into movement.  Drift settles across Ratchet’s chest, staring at the frosted glass and the plating still brandishing red and white coloring.  With a shaking hand, Drift reaches beneath Ratchet’s chest armor to activate a switch that would part the chest to reveal the medic’s spark chamber.  Black digits dig into internal wiring as Drift pitches forward.  His vents are stuttered.  The darkness at the edges of his vison is heavy and expanding.  His entire focus is on the spherical spark chamber before him.  His bitten lip tugs into a smile.

A small flicker remained within the chamber.  Ratchet had yet to gutter out completely.   _ The old bugger is still alive!  _  Drift straightens, his spinal strut groaning from the strain and cold.  He lifts one hand to touch the latch to open the spark chamber.  He needed to keep the wisp warm if there was any hope of saving Ratchet.  He smiles at the small ember and prays he won’t have to watch Ratchet flicker out.

The laser bullet that explodes Drift’s spark saves him from watching his dear one extinguish.  Drift slumps forward into Ratchet’s open chest.  His helm nestles its self under Ratchet’s chin.  The wisp shivers and gutters, finally returning the cave to darkness.


End file.
